


8 Kilometre

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-20
Updated: 2004-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following an Apparition attempt, two Harry Potters show up in Dumbledore's office.  In order to determine which is which, Dumbledore suggests a Parselmouth duel, but even he didn't realise how sexy two Parselmouths can be once they're in the same room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	8 Kilometre

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Slash, het, threesomes, foursomes, voyeurism, bestiality, and self/self.

"You've done it, Harry!" Albus Dumbledore smiled upon Harry Potter, his eyes twinkling merrily.

"Wow!" exclaimed Harry, excited. "I Apparated on my first try and I didn't even get splinched!"

Professor Dumbledore beamed at the Boy-Who-Lived. "And all the way across my office, too. You must have envisioned it perfectly." Harry beamed back.

Just then, a commotion could be heard from the bottom of the spiral staircase. "Fuck!" screamed a male voice from below. "What the hell are you trying to do to me, Dumbledore?" The voice then shouted "Ice Mice," the password to the Headmaster's office. Several loud noises could be heard, along with various profanities that sounded like "senile old bastard" and "God damned, sodding Apparition. I'll fucking kill him." Harry and Dumbledore just stared dumbly at one another.

When the visitor reached the top of the stairs, all three people looked around in surprise, for there stood Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and...Harry Potter? "Well, fuck!" bellowed the Newest Harry Potter.

"It seems we may have a problem here," stated the Headmaster, better known in some circles as The Master of the Obvious.

Harry Two snorted. "I have no idea who this bloke is, but I know I was trying to Apparate across this rumpus room you call an office, and somehow landed right outside Snape's quarters."

"Did you lose any points for Gryffindor?" asked Harry One, fretfully wringing his hands.

Harry Two snorted again. "Probably. I just checked out his arse and came right back here."

 

"You're an impostor!" cried Harry One, dramatically pointing his finger at Harry Two's face. Harry Two responded by lightly sucking on the proffered finger. Harry One pulled way, as though he'd been burned. "That was incredibly disturbing," said Harry One, aghast.

"Indeed," said Albus, adjusting his robes. "Is it hot in here?"

"No," replied Harrys.

"Listen, whoever you are," said Harry Two, eyeing his double. "If you're another one of those Polyjuiced Death Eaters, you might as well give up now. Old Albie over here was already fooled once by that. Fool him twice, shame on him, yeh? So scoot on out of here before I hex you so badly your bollocks end up somewhere on the moors. _I'm_ the real Harry Potter."

"No, _I'm_ the real Harry Potter," said Harry One.

 

"Wrong."

"Am not!"

"You are," said Harry Two, calmly.

"I am _not_!" Harry One's voice rose to near-hysterical proportions.

"Are."

Just as Harry One looked like he might hyperventilate, Dumbledore intervened. "Boys, this will solve nothing. I say we exploit Harry's unique skills in order to determine which of you is the real one."

"What a splendid idea!" replied Harry One, clasping his hands together.

Harry Two eyed Dumbledore suspiciously. "What did you have in mind?"

 

"Well, You - erm, Harry speaks Parseltongue, which is a rare ability. I admit, I'm not quite sure if that ability would be passed on if one used Polyjuice Potion, but it's worth a try."

"Oh, but there aren't any snakes in this office, are there, Professor Dumbledore, sir?" Harry One's eyes were as wide as saucers. Harry Two wondered if Harry One was going to do that weird thing with his hands again.

"Why don't we just conjure one?" Harry Two raised his wand. "_Serpen_\--"

"No!" interrupted Dumbledore. "I have a better idea. You two shall have a Parseltongue duel in the Great Hall tonight after dinner! We'll allow the older students to be your audience."

In unison, Harry One clapped his hands, gave a little hop, and said, "Splendid!" as Harry Two incredulously asked, "Why?"

"To move the plot along, of course," twinkled Albus. "Seven o'clock sharp then?"

Harry One nodded enthusiastically, while Harry Two shrugged nonchalantly. "Whatever."

 

***

Throughout dinner, Harry One nervously wrung his hands, compulsively ran his fingers through his hair, and bit his lower lip. When, for the tenth time in five minutes, he inspected his robes for invisible lint, Ron asked around a mouthful of food, "Ah yuu ah raht?"

Harry One studied Ron's face intently. "Pardon me, friend. What was that?"

Primly, Hermione wiped her mouth and said, "If Ron had any sort of manners, he would have finished chewing first. He wants to know if you're all right. As do I." Hermione paused, searching for the appropriate words. "You seem more jumpy than usual."

"Ah. Well, it's nothing, Hermione. Just jittery. This too will pass, so Ronald has nothing to worry about." Harry One worried his lip again, musing about the impostor's whereabouts. Dinner was nearly over and his soon-to-be sparring partner was nowhere in sight.

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall swung open, slamming loudly against the wall.

"Did he just call me Ronald?" Ron incredulously asked Hermione. Hermione never replied, as her attentions were fixed on the newest arrival.

The Other Harry Potter framed the doorway, grinning wildly. His messy black hair had been bleached blond and he was wearing a white t-shirt and impossibly oversized trousers. A fag casually dangled from the corner of his mouth and, though his trademark glasses were still in place, a large amount of black eyeliner circled his eyes, making his eyes look so green that many present wondered if the colour was illegal. Hermione's head quickly pivoted from Harry Two to Harry One, giving herself a minor case of whiplash.

 

"...What?" asked Ron.

Harry One wondered where on Earth Harry Two had gotten all of this. True, much of his clothing was oversized, but that was due to Dudley, not fashion. The trousers Harry Two wore were _designed_ to look the way they did. Fretfully, he hoped the fake hadn't robbed a liquor store! It would ruin the sanctity of the Potter name!

"Excuse me, students!" Dumbledore rose, attempting to quiet the din that had occurred upon the fraud's arrival. "As you have probably noticed, we have the problem of too many Harry Potters on our hands." The Headmaster chuckled, as a clutch of Hufflepuff girls squealed happily. Apparently, it wasn't a problem for everyone. "We've cleverly devised a way to possibly determine who is who. I would like to invite everyone in Fourth Year and above to stay and watch the proceedings. The rest of you are dismissed!" he concluded, waving merrily. The younger students whined about the injustice of it all as they exited and one second year Ravenclaw tried grabbing a handful of Harry Two on her way out. No one blamed her.

Professor McGonagall stood up, her lips already pursed. "May I remind you, Mr. Potter, or whoever you are, that there is to be no smoking on the premises. I shall take points!"

Harry Two, who was making his way up to the Head Table, held up his hands in mock-defeat and said, "Not a problem, Minnie." Passing by the Slytherin table, he casually deposited the cigarette in Draco Malfoy's glass, running his hand along Malfoy's jaw as he drew back. Malfoy's eyes closed and he sighed. He then looked wildly around to see if anyone noticed. Of course they had. What were they, blind?

Dumbledore looked towards the Gryffindor table, most of whom still had their jaws scraping along the floor. He beckoned towards Harry One. "Harry, if you would?" Harry One nodded and moved towards the front of the hall, avoiding the incredulous stares of Hermione, Ron, and well, everyone else. Dumbledore conjured a long stage and a small, high table. When the Harrys reached the front of the room, they stood on either side of the table, facing one another. Pointing to the table, the Headmaster conjured a snake and Harry Two once again wondered why all this couldn't have happened three hours ago.

Harry Two smirked at Harry One. "You first, pretty boy."

 

Harry One nodded resolutely and turned to look at the snake. "Let the games begin!" shouted Professor Dumbledore. He walked away and settled at the Head Table again.

Crouching down until he was eye-to-eye with the snake, Harry One began speaking. "Hello, Little Snake, I'm just going to talk to you for awhile. It's more for them," he said, gesturing broadly, "than for either of us. Do you understand?"

The snake bobbed his head up and down.

"Okay, now this will probably make little sense, so bear with me. I'm in Gryffindor House at Hogwarts. We're known for our bravery and nobility. If it wasn't for my fellow Gryffindors I would have gone crazy, long ago. We like to get into trouble, but are generally good people. I think that the values instilled in such an esteemed learning institution will help me in my battle against Voldemort. I have to believe it!" Harry One had straightened up during his speech, clutching one hand to his chest, the other stretched high above him, like he was holding a torch.

Though Harry Two looked rather laconic, the rest of the student body felt something odd occur. When Harry One spoke, the language – which, of course, they couldn't understand - sounded like singing. Like a _snake_ singing, if such a thing were possible. Apparently, when snakes sang, it was really, really sexy. Several people shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Much of Ravenclaw was staring at the stage in open-mouthed awe. The Hufflepuff table all seemed to be making googly eyes at one another, as were several members of Gryffindor. On the surface, the Slytherins seemed to be rather calm and collected, but observant eyes would notice that under the table, several knees were being groped and an eager game of footsie was underway between Bulstrode and Nott. Colin Creevey was already on his feet, snapping photo after photo.

Watching the scene unfold, Harry Two grinned madly. Harry One wasn't exactly sure why. Harry One had just spoken Parseltongue, after all! That proved he was the real Harry Potter, didn't it?

Harry Two lightly flicked out his tongue, beckoning the snake with one finger. The snake didn't move until Harry Two asked, "Does dirty talk bother you, Little One?"

 

The snake slithered over and asked, "What'sss dirty talk?"

"Just something to drive _him_ crazy," Harry Two replied, gesturing at Harry One.

Harry One's eyes widened. The impostor was a Parselmouth, too. Not only that, but Harry One noticed that his voice was an odd mix of English and snake sounds. He remembered that he'd been able to understand Tom Riddle, but it never--

He never thought--

The words didn't sound like _this_ before. Heat pooled at his groin and he met Harry Two's eyes, panicking slightly. Harry Two told the snake that he was free to move freely about, but warned him to stay in sight and not to hurt anyone. The snake nodded and slithered off the table. Harry Two sent one more glance in the snake's direction before catching Harry One's gaze. Green eyes intently studied their matched set. "What about you, Harry?" asked the not-quite-fake. "Does dirty talk bother you?"

A gasp caught in Harry One's throat, but he didn't respond.

 

Harry Two smirked at his counterpart. "See, we're smart. The way I see it, we got split up after Apparating, so we're really both Harry. How else would I know about two nights ago when you wanked in the shower and thought about Draco Malfoy?"

Harry One gripped the sides of the stage's table for support. It was true, as much as he hated to admit it, and there was no way anyone could have known it. Harry Two made his way around the table, putting his arms around Harry One's waist and leaning in close to his ear. Hissing, he asked, "Do you want me to describe exactly how you stroked yourself? How _I_ bit my tongue to keep from screaming out his name?" Harry Two pressed something hard and insistent into the back of Harry One's thigh. In response, Harry One bumped his body up against the table and gulped.

In the Great Hall, everyone was paying attention to the Harry Potters, yet no one was paying attention to them. Harry Two continued, raising his voice, "Look at them, Harry. They can hear us, but they can't _understand_. Apparently, though, hearing us has the same effect on them as it did on me." He snaked his hand around to the front of Harry One's robes. "And on you, too, I see. Who knew that Parseltongue was such a fucking turn-on?" Harry Two removed his hand, causing Harry One to whimper slightly. "I'm just going to talk for now. More later."

Harry Two detailed how Harry had thought about slamming Malfoy up against a wall and exactly what noises he thought Malfoy made when he came. Though the audience couldn't understand a thing, the words were obviously affecting all present, as they heard a series of loud, throaty growls and sibilant sounds. If Harry One's voice had been an angelic snake choir, then Harry Two's was the soundtrack to a snake pornography.

Among the Gryffindors, Ron and Neville were snogging madly. Neville's hands were tangled in Ron's flaming red hair, their hips grinding together in a slow circle. Ron was trying to remove Neville's robes, his own already half-off. Further down, Parvati sat in her chair, head between Lavender's legs. Lavender was propped up on the table, feet on either side of Parvati's thighs, head thrown back and gasping helplessly. Colin Creevey took more pictures and Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

"...And then your hand wrapped around Draco's cock, pumping, as you slammed into him. You wanted to make him scream, didn't you, Harry? I wanted to make him scream. I wanted to see his pretty, pink lips yelling out our name as he came, begging, begging for more." A blush bloomed on Harry One's cheeks, but he didn't deny the claims. Harry Two smiled wickedly. "Oh, but it's not just Malfoy, is it? Ron and Hermione are watching us, Harry. They don't know what we think about them. Maybe I should tell Ron where your hand goes at night, how I watch him sleep."

 

Harry One squirmed, attempting to pull away, but his heart wasn't really in it. "Stop," he weakly pleaded. "They might hear."

The snake, back from his travels, curled around their legs. Harry One jumped at the movement, but Harry Two paused to grin down at the snake. "But Harry, Ron can't understand us right now, can he?"

Ron, in fact, had been pushed up against the wall by a surprisingly aggressive Neville, mesmerised by the Harrys mingled voices. He was listening, but comprehension was somewhat far from his mind.

"I'm sure he'd look good on his knees, staring up at us. And what about Hermione? I know I'd love messing her up a little. Getting her sensible knickers soaked right through? Mmm."

Closing his eyes, Harry One managed to say, "I...I don't want...any of that."

Harry Two chuckled. "There's really no point in lying to me. So, do you think Neville and Snape know that we think they're at odds because of unresolved sexual tension? I could walk right up to either one of them right now and detail exactly how you planned on _resolving their differences_." Harry Two moved his hands up Harry One's sides, spinning him around so they were now face to face. "We could make these fantasies real, you and I. Would you want that?" Flicking his tongue out again, he slowly traced the outline of his doppelganger's mouth, as a moan that sounded more like a hiss escaped Harry One's mouth.

"You could understand me before?" asked Harry One.

 

"Look who finally decided to catch up with the rest of the class." Harry Two lifted a hand and caressed Harry One's cheek. Involuntarily, Harry One crushed his face against the hand.

"You ssssound like a ssssnake," confessed Harry One quietly.

"Assss do you." Harry Two shifted his hips so their erections ground together and sighed.

As the two Harrys got lost in their own little Parselworld, absolute chaos erupted all around them. McGonagall's hand was the only part of her on top of the Head Table. The rest of her body had been pulled underneath its surface, Professor Snape's legs sticking out from under her robes. Cho Chang was on all-fours atop the Ravenclaw table, Michael Corner fervently thrusting into her from behind, with Luna Lovegood arranged underneath Cho's body. The two girls kissed passionately, their tongues quite visible. Three Ravenclaw boys had chairs pulled up alongside the action, helpfully stroking one another. Ravenclaws always had been problem solvers, after all. Robes were nowhere to be seen.

In a bold move that probably wouldn't have happened had Ron not been completely oblivious to his surroundings (more so than usual, of course), Ginny Weasley strode over to the Slytherins and yanked Pansy Parkinson by the hair. She then practically tore off the other girl's robes, causing several fastenings to make clanking noises as they hit the floor. Ginny then licked her way from Pansy's neck to her navel. Pansy gasped in surprise, yet made no moves to push Ginny away.

A couple of feet away from Pansy and Ginny, Draco Malfoy had his arms crossed, frustrated, because Crabbe and Goyle were arguing about who would get to suck him off. It seemed as though things might come to blows - and not the good kind - so Draco searched the room for an available partner. His cock wasn't going to suck itself, after all. Ron chose that moment to open his eyes, the blond and redhead's eyes locking. Ron looked down at a kneeling Neville and said something that Draco couldn't hear, what with him being clear across the room and all. Neville bobbed his head in a different way and Ron smiled, beckoning Draco with his finger. As Crabbe and Goyle were now rolling around on the ground and, oh my, maybe the blows _would_ be the good kind, Draco shrugged and strolled to the Gryffindor side, tossing off his robes as he went. Ron greeted the newest member of their party with a kiss, deeply probing Draco's mouth with his tongue. Neville then stood up and greeted Draco himself, as Ron sunk to the floor to claim Neville's old spot.

Hermione was still conspicuously absent.

 

Harry Two slid Harry One's robe off his body, exposing the Muggle clothing he always wore underneath. "You should talk to the people, love. Give them what they want," urged Harry Two. He leaned down and lightly nipped Harry One's neck. "Give _me_ what I want."

Completely at a loss of words and not particularly caring that the other Harry could understand every word, Harry One started reciting the first thing that came to mind – any details he could remember about the animals listed in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. Hagrid would be proud, if only he could understand what Harry One was saying. Well, that, and if he didn't have Professor Flitwick clutching his crotch like the diminutive man was sliding down a fire pole. "A-An acromantula is a giant sp-spider," Harry One stuttered. Harry Two traced the shell of Harry One's ear with his tongue, hands undoing each of Harry One's shirt buttons. "This is wrong, this is wrong." Harry Two nibbled on Harry One's collar bone. "Oh! Banshees are dark creatures, with f-floor length b-black hair...."

At the Head Table, Albus surveyed the madness calmly, smiling and twinkling, twinkling and smiling. He seemingly wasn't participating in the action, but, if one listened closely, the muffled trill of a phoenix could be heard from his general direction. No one saw Fawkes or any other phoenix enter the room, but then, that was Dumbledore's mystique, wasn't it?

Another person in the room wasn't currently entangled in limbs and other assembled body parts, too. Hufflepuff's Susan Bones had pulled a chair right up to the stage and was intently staring at the ongoing action between the Harrys. Her right hand was moving frantically, buried within the depths of her robe, and she shrugged off the offers of Ernie Macmillan and Zacharias Smith without a moment's thought. "Are you mad?" she asked them. "This is the main event right here!" Later that night, Susan would commit the events she witnessed to parchment, detail by delicious detail. For days afterwards, she could be found lovingly clutching that parchment to her chest.

After they were rebuffed, Ernie and Zacharias shrugged and turned to each other, instead.

Harry Two, having successfully removed Harry One's shirt, caught a nipple between his teeth, biting lightly. Harry One hissed sharply. "Fuh-Fuh-Flobberworms primarily consume a diet of l-lettuce." Kneeling, Harry Two licked a trail down Harry One's abdomen. "Their mucus is a way to thicken p-p-potions." Harry Two unbuttoned Harry One's fly with one hand and eased Harry One's trousers off his hips. Harry One toed off his shoes almost automatically, so he could step out of his trousers. "They're t-t-toothless, brown, and ten-inches long."

 

"Ten inches? That's a little wishful thinking, I have to say. Not that I don't share those sentiments, mind." Laughing, Harry Two pulled down Harry One's pants, leaving him dressed in only his white socks, which had bunched around his ankles. "Still impressive, though."

Harry Two lightly licked the length of the other Harry's cock, sending shivers down Harry One's spine. "F-fuck!" he gasped.

"Nice to see you breaking out of the good boy role, finally. Now, my mouth's going to be busy," said Harry Two, bringing one hand up to cup Harry One's balls, "so you're going to need to do all the talking." Harry Two swirled his tongue along the head of Harry One's prick, lapping up the drops that had already escaped. "Understand?"

Harry One's hands grasped the edge of the table and he nodded. "Y-yes." Harry Two engulfed Harry One's length. "Oh God!" cried Harry One. "Where did you learn that? I _know_ I've never done that before." In reply, Harry Two only hummed around his mouthful. "Your mouth...my mouth..._our_ mouth is so warm!" Staring up at Harry One, Harry Two moved at a maddeningly slow rate. "God...," breathed Harry One, more turned on than he'd ever been in his life. The recurring thoughts about how wrong this was faded a little more each time Harry Two's lips reached the base of his cock. When Harry Two's fingers started playing at Harry One's entrance, his whole body froze, but not from fear. Harry Two pulled away and stood, causing Harry One to hiss-whimper at the loss.

Harry Two yanked his T-shirt over his head and Harry One admired the boy's form for a second, until the full realisation that it was his own sunk in. This didn't accomplish anything other than making him harder, which he thought was a very strange reaction, indeed. Harry Two casually flicked open the button at the top of his trousers. Because they were so oversized, they easily pooled around his ankles. Harry One swallowed hard as he noticed that Harry Two had been wearing nothing underneath.

"Why did you dye your hair?" Harry One blurted suddenly, surprising even himself.

 

Harry Two smiled and took a step closer to Harry One, ghosting his hand over the trail of hair both their stomachs possessed. "I wanted us to look different. Makes this easier, doesn't it?"

Harry One nodded, suddenly inspired to suck lightly on Harry Two's neck. He leaned in, tentatively moving his mouth. Harry Two tasted salty and Harry One wondered, if he tasted himself, would Harry One taste exactly the same? Harry Two's breathing grew slightly more ragged. "And the makeup?" asked Harry One, gesturing at Harry Two's startling green eyes.

"Well, that just makes us look fucking sexy, doesn't it?"

"Indeed it does," replied Harry One, breathing just as heavily.

Harry Two leaned in and their tongues briefly met in a delicious tangle before Harry Two pulled away. "We've got to keep talking. That's why they don't notice us." Still slightly breathless, Harry Two said clearly, "Let me fuck you."

When he felt himself nod, Harry One was quite sure he'd gone completely mad.

The more involved the Harrys became, the more their mingled voices seemed to affect the atmosphere. The air grew thick and heady, somewhat like a rainforest, but whether this was due to the Parseltongue, the frenzied activity, or a mixture of both was wasn't outwardly apparent. Meanwhile, Seamus and Dean had somehow shoehorned themselves into Pansy and Ginny's tête-à-tête. Somewhat literally, in fact. The foursome now occupied the corner of the hall closest to the doors, bending and twisting like pretzels in order to accommodate all involved parties. In the morning, Pansy wouldn't regret what had happened, only that it happened with _Gryffindors_.

 

Colin had discovered his muse. He and his camera rapidly took pictures of Susan Bones, whose heavily lidded eyes still stared intently at Harrys One and Two. Her hand was moving in a frenetic circle and Colin, finally reaching his limit, reached out to her. With her free hand, Susan slapped him away. "Not _now_. Busy." Frustrated, Colin grabbed Hannah Abbot, who was clad only in a black bra, matching lace panties, knee socks and sensible shoes. The new pair sunk to the ground, kissing deeply, though one of Colin's arms was still outstretched as he haphazardly tried getting any shot he could.

At the front of the room, the conjured snake slithered around the various couples, watching with a sense of detached amusement. "Warm blood makesss you all ssso funny," he commented to the two Parselmouths.

The snake had a point. Harry One had been bent over the table by Harry Two, the latter tangling his hands in the former's dark hair. Harry One panted with need. "I want you," he admitted quietly.

"What was that?" asked Harry Two, smiling wryly, as he rubbed his cock against the cleft of Harry One's arse. "Couldn't quite make that out."

"God, I want you inside me," Harry One nearly shouted. The din from the various couples surrounding them grew noticeably louder at this statement.

Harry Two quickly found his wand and muttered a spell, coating his fingers in a slippery, coconut-scented oil. "Oh, thank God that worked," Harry Two said, relieved. "I didn't want to have to ask the house elves to fetch us cooking oil or something."

As two of Harry Two's fingers eased their way past the ring of muscle, Harry One cried out, "Oh good _God_!" Harry Two moved at a leisurely pace and Harry One forced himself to relax, a task made easier when the fingers pushed in a bit further and rubbed past a spot that made a groan escape from the back of his throat. "Wh-where did you learn that spell, anyway? I'm _sure_ I don't know that one."

 

Harry Two experimentally wiggled his fingers, pleased with the noises his double made. "The lubrication spell? Yeh, you don't know that one. I learned it this afternoon."

"This afternoon?"

"Mmm. Had a very...educational afternoon in Hogsmeade."

"Huh. Ooh. Oh, that feels good."

"What do you mean, 'Huh'?"

"Oh, I was just wondering if this means I'm still a virgin or not."

Harry Two withdrew his fingers and wrapped the hand around his own cock, which he rubbed against Harry One's entrance. "Not gonna matter much in a couple of minutes, anyway." He slowly pushed into Harry One, both moaning due to the overload of sensation. Harry One gripped the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles turned white. Harry Two shuddered. "Oh, holy fuck." His aching cock moved in and out of the tight hole, each stroke rewarded with a whimper from his duplicate. Harry Two let loose with a near constant string of profanity and grasping one of Harry One's hips with one hand, he reached around and grabbed Harry One's cock.

"Oh, _please_," begged Harry One. Harry Two leaned down so his chest, slick with sweat, pressed against Harry One's back. Harry Two pumped his fist to match the movement of his hips, Harry One rocking to meet both motions.

 

Harry One now understood the concept of being completely filled. He could hear Harry Two chanting, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh god, you're so _tight_, god, oh god!" in his ear, as the hand around his cock moved faster and faster. As Harry Two's prick drove deep and hit the same spot that his fingers had moments earlier, Harry One's breath grew ragged and he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. His face pressed against the table, his match's face against his back, Harry One let out a wanton moan and closed his eyes.

"I can't...I'm going to...God, please, fuck, God, I need to come now."

"Fuck, I can't hold on anymore."

"God, yes, come for me, come for me, now, now, now!"

"Yessssssssssss!" he hissed loudly, the word reverberating throughout the room.

Harry came hard, little spots of light appearing in front of his still-closed eyes. At the exact same moment, warm wetness filled him inside. Exhausted, he collapsed on the table.

After a moment, he realised there was no longer any pressure on his back. Or was it on his front? There was also a deafening silence surrounding him. The only sounds he could hear were his own ragged breathing and the threatening hiss of the conjured snake. Inwardly, Harry groaned before daring to open one eye.

 

All around, people were in various states of undress, none moving. Most of them were gaping open-mouthed at Harry, perhaps because there was only one of him again, but more likely because he was starkers in front of the vast majority of the student population. Harry winced and glanced behind him. And in front of all of the faculty, too.

Embarrassed, Cho Chang rolled off the Ravenclaw table and sat in her seat, hunting around for robes. _Any_ robes would do.

Seamus and Dean balled up their clothes and dashed back to the Gryffindor table when they recognised Pansy Parkinson, though Ginny lightly brushed the Slytherin's arm before returning to her housemates.

Just about everyone was hunting for or straightening their robes.

Susan Bones slumped in her chair, a queer half-smile plastered on her face. She seemed quite sated.

Draco Malfoy jumped back and gasped "Weasel!" He rushed back to the Slytherins and, upon his return, viciously kicked Crabbe in the ribs, ordering him to get dressed. Ron and Neville watched him go for a moment. Shrugging, they then turned to each other again and began snogging in earnest once again.

Snape disentangled himself from McGonagall's robes, both trying to look as dignified as possible. Dignity went out the window when Hermione crawled out from underneath Snape's robes a second later. It seemed she'd been "doing some extra-credit" the entire time.

 

In the middle of everything stood Colin Creevey, wailing and gnashing his teeth. Apparently, he'd never bothered to load his camera with film. The rest of the students didn't care. Less incriminating evidence!

Blushing madly, Harry gathered his belongings and hobbled back to the Gryffindor table, finding it surprisingly uncomfortable to walk. He hastily got dressed, as the Headmaster stood. Fawkes flew off, trilling something that Harry thought sounded rather indignant. "Ah, a most enlightening evening," Dumbledore stated happily, making the conjured snake disappearing a puff of grey smoke. Ninety-nine percent of those present looked at Dumbledore incredulously. Ron and Neville were still groping each other on the floor. "It seems they were _both_ the real Harry Potter."

Harry stood up. "Did you know about this?" he asked angrily.

"Of course not, Harry. Please sit." Harry sat. "As I was saying, it's a pleasure to have Harry back to his old self and I'm quite glad the aspects of his personality so _amiably_ reunited."

Harry stared directly at his lap, blushing bright crimson, but smiling inwardly. He could still feel the hot breath on the back of his neck, the sense of driving in and out of another body, and what it felt like to have another person inside him. His cock gave an appreciative twitch at the thought.

Still adjusting her robes, Hermione reached the table, joining Harry. She gasped. "Harry, what's wrong with your hair?"

 

Harry picked up a teaspoon and examined his reflection. Weaved through his dark hair, right above his trademark lightening bolt scar, was a streak of platinum. Harry grinned and brushed the hair away from his eyes, before passing the teaspoon onto Ron.


End file.
